FISHING DREAMS
No one who has not fly-fished for trout can really know the heavy-heartedness that assails an angler when the season comes to a close, us' it did but a few days ago. I marked off my last fishing expedition in my diary and, yes, sat down to the last brace of trout to be caught by my rod until 195(,. The fish an angler re- members are inclined to grow with the passing of time: One-pounders creep up to one and a half, and so on; and oh, the fish I caught when a boy! Should one make excuses for harmless exaggeration and innocent pleasure? If I have not yet been blessed with fish so large that when talking of them I have no need to lie, I can only spend the dark days thinking of the fish I may catch in 'the season to come—a big mountain trout lured on a fly made in winter and saved for the soft breeze and dappling sunlight of May or June.
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